


Feel Better Soon

by L122ytorch



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: Wilson has finished a round of chemo a handful of weeks ago and is working on regaining his strength. After his near brush with death, House has been acting differently - unnoticeable to the untrained eye - but apparent to Wilson.





	Feel Better Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Wilson starts chemo at House's...House...and he's still crashing on his best friend's couch.

Wilson tried to keep busy. He was in no shape to return to work, but that didn't mean he couldn't occupy his mind. He read medical journals, wrote a few papers, let himself get lost in YouTube, watched some shows, read good books. He had pretty much turned House's living room into his bedroom. Beverages and plates sat around because he was too tired to do anything about them. Papers and books and his laptop were nestled together on the coffee table. And it felt as though his ass was permanently glued to the sofa. 

Despite having plenty to keep his head busy, Wilson was growing restless. And that extra little dose of boredom created too much space in his mind to notice things, to think about things.

Of course the young doctor had plenty of time to ponder his possible death, hell, he saw it every day at work. But this time it was different, it was his neck on the line. He'd come to accept his diagnosis, but worried constantly about House. Inevitably his headstrong friend reassured him that he'd be "just fine" without him, but they both knew it was a lie.

Anyway, for the time being, Wilson sat on the sofa across from his open laptop watching some car auction show. It was getting lateHe wasn't too preoccupied with it, so he looked over at his friend when House sat down on the couch next to him. 

"What's up?" Wilson asked, dying to hear about House's latest case. Okay, maybe "dying to" isn't the best turn of phrase...

But he wasn't prepared for House's expression. He couldn't put his finger on what it was...House's usually bright blue eyes look dark and...troubled? His lips were parted and measured breaths were ghosting over his lips. 

"Everything okay House?" James asked. 

His friend only nodded at first and he could practically hear the gears turning in Greg's head. 

"Watcha watching?" House attempted to replicate a sense of normalcy, but the effort was shaky at best. Whatever House was planning, maybe he was backing out of it.

"Uh...Mecum Car Auction. How was work?"

"It was fine."

"That's it? It was fine?"

"It was uneventful."

Wilson huffed a laugh. "Yeah right. Nothing involving you is uneventful." At his words, House cracked a small grin. Perhaps his bosom buddy felt guilty for leaving Wilson at home alone. 

Both of them seemed to get drawn back into the show...until House put his hand on Wilson's leg. 

Wilson looked over at Greg with an expression of thinly veiled shock, but House didn't meet his eyes, instead his gaze was trained on his own hand, lightly massaging Wilson's thigh. 

"What are you doing House?"

The doctor's eyes snapped up and Wilson recognized that the earlier undertone of House's expression...was lust.

"I am touching your thigh," House stated matter-of-factly. Wilson shot back a "no shit Sherlock," face to which House responded, "I want to make you feel good James."

The vulnerability in Greg's voice was startling. 

"It's not your job to make me feel good," Wilson nearly whispered.

House's fingers were lightly but expertly applying pressure in a massage motion, moving closer towards Wilson's upper thigh...and nearing the juncture of his jeans. "I WANT to make you feel good," House admitted. 

Wilson scrutinized House's every movement, the tone of his voice, the track of his eyes. He wanted to make sure that this wasn't some drug addled fever illusion.

Blood started traveling south as House scooted closer, his hand continuing to near Wilson's blooming cock, his lips headed for Wilson's neck. It was an odd sensation, the contrast of stubble rubbing against the tender flesh of his neck, soothed over by hot skilled lips. A moan vibrated beneath House's lips and it gave him the courage to palm his friend through his sweatpants. It became apparent that Wilson wasn't wearing underwear and the thought was making House rock hard.

Cool air alternated with House's hot breath as he pulled away from kissing Wilson's neck. He immediately missed the contact.

"I would kiss you, but your platelets are low and I don't want to get you sick," House explained, his hand still moving against Wilson's erection.

Wilson nodded and House moved to take off Wilson's shirt. 

"House..." the word was charged, it threatened to tear apart his friend's ministrations. 

"Oh god, here we go."

"This isn't a pity fuck because I'm dying is it?"

"First off, no, it's not. And second, why can't you just shut up and let good things happen? " House responded as he maneuvered his friend, which was not an easy feat for a cripple. He moved Wilson so that his back was resting on the arm of the sofa, his legs now traversing the couch cushion's seat. 

The gruff doctor kissed down Wilson's chest, stopping to lick and bite his nipples, making Wilson squirm.

"Then what...what is this House? We need to talk...about this..."

"No we don't," House dragged the sweatpants off his friend and was greeted with the bobbing evidence of his friend's arousal. 

"I.....I'm...not gay," Wilson sputtered, his words disappearing along with his cock down House's throat. 

Greg stroked him with his tongue a few times before coming up for air to respond.

"Now is not the time to have a heterosexual identity crisis. Plus, your cock says differently." House resumed, shedding Wilson of every stitch of clothing and sucking the head of his dick like it was a lollipop. House was kneeling most of the time and his leg was starting to scream out in pain, but the sounds and sights that he was eliciting from his friend were just too good to stop.

House sat back for a moment so he could take off his shirt and hissed in pain. 

"Your leg," "Is fine," House cut him off, clearly lying. He unbuttoned his deep blue shirt and threw it somewhere before standing up and pushing his jeans and underwear off in one fell swoop. 

As he was blowing Wilson there was a nagging worry in the back of his mind of what Wilson's reaction to his leg would be...but he was his best friend...and at this point, lust was overruling logic. Ever curious, House watched to see Wilson's reaction to his leg, but there was none. 

"House..." Wilson whispered as his friend lowered his body onto his own. 

"Do you want me to stop?" 

Wilson thought about it for a split second and decided that the genuine answer was... "no, don't stop." 

So House gathered both of their cocks in his large hand and stroked. The friction between them was delicious. House kissed Wilson's jaw and neck, groaning in approval and lightly nipping at the flesh beneath his teeth. Wilson wanted to kiss him on the mouth so bad that it physically hurt not to.

Just as Wilson was getting close to coming, his nails raking down House's back, his friend stopped. "I want more," House whispered into Wilson's ear, his voice a mix of desperation and despair. The truth was that House wanted more of everything. More of a relationship with Wilson, more time with Wilson, more opportunities to make up for being such a dick to the only person who has stuck around.

"I want more too," Wilson conceded. The sentence barely had a chance to leave his lips before House was pulling out lube and spreading Wilson's legs apart. This was so far out of his wheelhouse that Wilson's breath hitched with concern. But House was so cautious and attentive and caring with every kiss, with every movement. He made sure to distract Wilson by fondling his balls and licking his cock while he put one finger into his ass, and then two. And once House's lips were expertly stroking Wilson off and his fingers had found the oncologist's prostate, Wilson was literally begging for more. 

He wasn't quite sure how he got here, his brain was desperate to analyze the situation, to figure out how they'd gotten from 'just friends' to House lining up his bare cock with his asshole. 

"...c...condom?" he sputtered.

"No, I want to feel you, I want you to feel me. I'm clean, and I don't care if you are," House's voice cracked, the head of his cock pushing for entrance. "Is that okay?"

"Yes," Wilson said through gritted teeth, his body shamelessly sliding itself down to push House in.

House was going too slow, he was "being careful" with Wilson and he didn't like it. 

"Fuck me House, stop fucking around and really fuck me," Wilson said before sinking his teeth into House's collar bone with a fierceness that would surely leave a mark. 

That was all the encouragement House needed to start slamming into Wilson in earnest. His leg would never forgive him, but he knew that Wilson was too weak to take over or switch positions. 

"This isn't going to last long," House's face hovered over Wilson's. Their bodies couldn't possibly get any closer. There was something so painfully intimate about the way House looked at him. About the way House was sacrificing his leg so that Wilson wouldn't overexert himself. 

Wilson was drowning in House, in the way his body moved against his, the way his kisses massaged over the harshness of his stubble's trail, the way his long surgeon's fingers wrapped around his cock, but the thing that unraveled him was House's stare. It was loaded with lust, love, despair, pain. His eyes were prompting Wilson to orgasm, staring through to his soul in such a way that the word "vulnerable" had new meaning. 

House could tell Wilson was tumbling off the edge and he was relieved, he wanted Wilson to come first. He pumped Wilson's impressive cock with his right hand and watched his friend come all over their chests. The sight was more than enough to send House into his orgasm. 

Wilson had never experienced an ass filled with sticky hot come and he quickly realized it was a feeling he could get used to. House's face as he came, the sight of him pulling his spent cock out of his body and the noises he made...fuck...he was ruined. 

The two of them collapsed next to one another on the couch, the only sound in the room was their breathing. House pulled his friend lower on the couch and put his head above Wilson's. He took a deep breath in and let his mind wander towards sleep, his arms still wrapped around the only person who really understood him. 

He couldn't lose him. Not now. Not ever.


End file.
